


A Lesson about Decisions

by MeltdownChromium



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: (logic-wise), Daddy Issues I guess, Gen, Kid Fic, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27339334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltdownChromium/pseuds/MeltdownChromium
Summary: “Youhaven’tdecided yet?” His brother paused, looking dumbstruck and still staring at Nefarian, who’d averted his gaze guiltily and put on a very convincing annoyed face. Vivace continued. “I mean, how hard can it be? Just choose one that you find interesting; with all those books you read one would assume you know about loads of different disciplines.”Nefarian laughed humourlessly. “Of courseyouwould think like that."Or:Nefarian takes a little too long to make a decision.
Kudos: 2





	A Lesson about Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> Been working on some hcs for Serpine's backstory for a while now, since it's canon that he apparently has 'quite a large family'. The whole thing about him being an energy thrower kind of built itself into that and this is the result.  
> Hope you enjoy.

“I don’t think it’s working.”

Nefarian watched as his brother pulled back his fist and tried his best to look unaffected by the pain the punch had very obviously caused him. Vivace didn’t look at him, but he didn’t need to be glared at to know the other wasn’t exactly fond of his commentary.

“Will you shut up,” Vivace bit out, his voice strained. Nefarian only huffed in acknowledgement, aware that they both knew he wouldn’t.

He watched as his brother prepared himself for the next punch. He closed his eyes in concentration and took a deep breath, before his fist shot forward - a lot faster than last time - and collided with the sturdy wood. There was an ugly crack and Vivace cursed loudly, clutching his hand and cradling it against his chest.

Nefarian looked at him with honest surprise, one eyebrow raised. “Did you seriously just break a finger?”

Vivace vigorously shook his head.

“Shall I inform mother?” Nefarian offered.

A very pained ‘piss off’ was the only answer he got, so he pressed on. “You should really get that looked at.”

“I’m _fine_.” It wasn’t very convincing.

“Are you crying?”

His brother’s head shot up, eyes furious and watery. “Don’t you have anything else to do?!”

Nefarian only shrugged. “Watching you fail is amusing.”

Vivace rolled his eyes. He still looked like he was in pain, though it seemed to have gotten a lot better. Not a broken finger then. “Why, thank you. But since you’re so keen on mocking me because I haven’t mastered my discipline yet, tell me, have you even _chosen_ one?”

That made Nefarian hesitate. He hadn’t, despite it nearly constantly having been at the forefront of his mind for the last weeks. He knew that, now that he was old enough, it would only be a matter of time until his father asked him which discipline he wished to learn. But the decision wasn’t an easy one and Nefarian took it very seriously, knowing what the consequences of making the wrong choice were.

His brother read the silence correctly and momentarily stopped rubbing his knuckles, his eyes going wide. “You _haven’t_ decided yet?” He paused, looking dumbstruck and still staring at Nefarian, who’d averted his gaze guiltily and put on a very convincing annoyed face. Vivace continued. “I mean, how hard can it be? Just choose one that you find interesting; with all those books you read one would assume you know about loads of different disciplines.”

Nefarian laughed humourlessly and gave Vivace his famous ‘your-stupidity-continues-to-impress-me’-look. “Of course _you_ would think like that. This is everything but easy, I can’t just ‘choose one that interests me’, it has to fit me and be useful at the same time, it has to be something I know I’ll still like in several hundred years, it’s what people will categorize me by the moment they find out, just because you’re too dull to give this more than a second of thought doesn’t mean I am willing to do so as well.”

Vivace let the gush of words wash over him with the patience of someone who’s had to deal with Nefarian’s monologues since he’d learned how to speak – something that had happened terribly early. When he’d finished, Vivace pretended to contemplate what he’d been told, playing dumb. He might not be as smart as his brother but he wasn’t as stupid as the other made him appear to be either. “Have you ever considered, and this may sound extreme, that perhaps you’re taking this a little too seriously?”

The bewildered stare he got in return was worthy of being made into a painting.

“Too seriously?!” Nefarian began and Vivace knew he was in for a ride. “ _Too ser-_ this isn’t something you _can_ take ‘too seriously’, this is one of the most important decisions you _ever_ make! What if one day I end up hating my discipline? I’ll have to live with that choice for the rest of my _life_!”

Vivace wasn’t impressed. “You’ll also have to live with your eyes for the rest of your life, but that didn’t stop you from fucking _those_ up.”

The other glared at him with the sparkling emerald green eyes in question. “I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

“You say that now. But what if one day you end up hating them?” He grinned at the last sentence, a little proud of being the one to use _Nefarian’s_ words against him for once.

He didn’t get much of a response though, just an exasperated sigh, which was a little disappointing.

A comfortable silence settled, making the moment seem almost peaceful. A light breeze blew through the courtyard, ruffling Nefarian’s dark hair and making a few strands fall into his eyes. Vivace knew his brother disliked having his hair so long but ever since he’d done that thing to his eyes father had forbidden him from cutting it too short. Surprisingly, he hadn’t disobeyed and Vivace was glad for it. Despite their frequent fights and disagreements, he was still his brother and he knew their father’s punishments could be cruel.

“I could see you doing symbol magic,” Vivace tried, unsure if he should even attempt to help.

Nefarian gave him an amused look. “You think I have enough patience for that?”

“You also have enough patience for those impossibly thick books, I’m sure you’d manage a thumb-length symbol. On another note, maybe you shouldn’t choose that, I’m not exactly enthusiastic about having to listen to you complain about inaccurate directions or inefficient techniques all day long.”

“Then you’ll be glad to hear I’m not planning on learning symbol magic. I still have a lot of time to make up my mind anyway, it took father a quarter of a year until he asked you, surely he’ll give me half that time.” He said the last part in a light-hearted way, a smile on his lips, but it was obvious that it irked him; no matter how used he’d grown to their father’s favoritism.

“Nefarian!”

He turned around to see his eldest brother standing in the doorway leading inside. The first few buttons on his shirt were undone, his sleeves rolled up. He seemed to be in a hurry and Nefarian was sure the tell-tale mark on his collarbone had something to do with it. “Father wants to speak to you. In his office.”

He didn’t wait for an answer before rushing back inside and Nefarian stared after him, the implication of that request slowly sinking in.

Vivace gave him a pat on the shoulder that was most likely supposed to be reassuring. “Good luck, little brother.”

~

Nefarian knocked on the heavy, wooden door and mentally counted to three, before stepping into his father’s office.

The sun had begun to lower, its light shining through the two large windows behind the desk. The faint sound of Vivace trying to punch through the plank again was carried up to them by the wind. It didn’t sound like he was making any progress.

He stopped walking when he’d reached the middle of the room, far enough away from the door to not seem hesitant and far enough from the desk to not get into his father’s line of vision. He fixed his eyes on a pebble on the floor that someone must have carried inside and listened to his father’s quill scratching on paper. He knew how this little game worked, knew it was nothing but a display of power, a reminder of who was in charge, but he also knew the consequences of not playing by the rules.

So he waited.

He’d learned how to turn his mind off in these situations, so when his father finally put the quill aside it was like no time had passed at all. The few seconds that followed before he finally began to speak, however, felt unimaginably long.

“Do you know why you’re here, Nefarian?” His father’s voice was calm, the words spoken slowly and with the ever-present undertone of displeasure.

He knew his father disliked speaking to him, so he answered without wasting any time. “I am to tell you which discipline I have chosen.”

He could feel his father’s piercing gaze like a sting at the back of his skull. “Indeed.”

He was evidently waiting for a response and Nefarian knew he didn’t have long to come up with one. A part of him told him to simply choose symbol magic and make the best of it, but another, much stronger, part rebelled against that idea, knowing it wasn’t the right choice. So he settled for the truth. “I haven’t made a decision yet.”

The silence that followed felt different than before but he couldn’t quite read it. “Very well.”

His father’s answer surprised him and so did the casual tone he’d said it in, but he wasn’t about to question it. Feeling more relieved than he should, Nefarian resumed talking. “I will inform you once I’ve-“

“There’s no need for that.” There was still that nonchalance in his voice that Nefarian didn’t understand. It made him feel uneasy, like there was something very bad happening that he couldn’t see and he tried to prepare for whatever was coming.

The metaphorical blow that followed still took him by surprise. “You will be an Energy-Thrower.”

It felt like the time Vivace had woken him up by emptying a bucket of icy water he’d gotten from the stream over his head, even before he fully understood what his father had just said. He completely forgot about respect or whatever his father liked to call his power-play and his head shot up, eyes wide as he stared at the other in shock and disbelief. “Wha-?”

His father didn’t seem to pay this violation of rules any mind and disregarded his son’s reaction, only returning his gaze. “I will send word to a tutor immediately.”

The initial shock made way for anger and Nefarian raised his voice in a way he’d never dare if he were in his right mind, but this wasn’t something he could just accept and move on from. “You can’t do that! You can’t decide this for-“

“I _can_ , and I have.” There was an edge to his words now, a silent warning. “I am your father, and you will _do as I say_.” His voice had gotten gradually louder throughout the sentence and in the end nearly matched Nefarian’s from earlier.

Nefarian swallowed, eyes ablaze, still trying to think of a way out. “I won’t learn,” he settled on, phrasing it as a threat. “When you bring the tutor, I won’t learn.”

Another surge of anger flashed through his father’s eyes. “Then you will leave this house and die on the streets like any other mortal orphan boy and I will make sure of it.”

He was taken aback by the honesty of the words, realizing that despite everything he’d still believed his father wouldn’t go that far. Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise him.

The anger dissipated as he recognized that it wasn’t helping, but he certainly wasn’t willing to give up yet. Desperation started to settle in his chest and he felt like a cornered animal staring at the arrow aimed at his head. “Please,” his voice was quiet now, only a shadow of his usual, easy confidence. “ _Please_. Don’t do this. Don’t take this choice from me.”

He hated begging, despised it like he despised himself at that moment, but there was nothing else he could do.

His father’s eyes softened - another act - but the sternness in his words stayed. “You did this to yourself, Nefarian. I have no fault in this.”

A lie, such an obvious lie, he knew it was one but that didn’t make it feel any less like a knife in his chest. He looked away then, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to run down his face.

“Nefarian.”

He wished himself away, wished he’d told the other he’d chosen symbol magic, wished for a blade to-

“Nefarian, look at me.” His tone was commanding and sharp, and Nefarian’s head snapped up like he’d been struck.

His father spoke slowly then, as if he were a small child that still had trouble understanding the words. “Listen well. I want you to learn from this moment, Nefarian. You will make many decisions in your life, some easier, some harder, but remember, you aren’t the only one who will. And if you take too long to make a decision, someone else will make it for you.”

The words hung heavy in the now silent room. After a few more seconds, Nefarian’s father turned his attention back to the letters on his desk, picking up his quill and getting back to work, as if nothing had happened. Nefarian didn’t move, staring at nothing in particular and his mind blissfully blank, tears rolling down his cheeks.


End file.
